Thranduil's Tale
by Mauriel2015
Summary: Thranduil reveals to Legolas his mother's story.


Thranduil's Tale

As the Battle of the 5 Armies drew to a bloody close, Legolas partially emerged from one of the labyrinthine caves in Ravenhill, and stopped himself when he saw Tauriel kneeling by the lifeless body of Kili. As he watched from the shadows, Tauriel was holding the rune stone Kili had given her when they parted at the beach after escaping from the ruins of Lake-Town; he on to Erebor, and Tauriel to reconnoiter Gundabad with Legolas. Tauriel's long auburn hair fell over Kili almost as a soft curtain that enveloped him.

Tauriel gently opened Kili's right hand, and placed the rune in it, recalling the conversation in which he told her the rune had been given to him by his mother to bring him home. Neither would see him alive again. She kissed Kili's hand, and continued to hold it.

Legolas dejectedly retreated and met Thranduil as he went back into the cave. "I… cannot go back", he told Thranduil in a quiet voice.

Thranduil, able to sense his son's emotions, understood Legolas's pain and asked "Where will you go?"

"I don't know."

"Go North" Thranduil suggested. "Find the Dunedain. There is a young ranger amongst them, you should meet him. His father, Arathorn, was a good man. His son might grow to be a great one."

"What is his name?"

"He is known in the wild as Strider. His true name you must discover for yourself".

At this, Legolas turned and started to walk away.

"Legolas" Thranduil called out.

Legolas stopped, but did not turn.

"Your mother loved you" said Thranduil, in a soft and uncharacteristic emotion-filled voice. "More than anyone, more than life", he added.

At that, Legolas turned back and they exchanged an old elven farewell gesture.

Thranduil sadly saw his son start to leave, and came to a momentous decision. "Legolas!" he cried.

Legolas returned, a confused look in his face. He thought they had said everything they needed to say.

"I cannot let you go without telling you a story" Thranduil said. "It was always my intention to reveal this to you when the time was right. It may be many years before we meet again, and I want you to hear this from me and no other. Let us go and find a quiet place where we will not be interrupted".

Together they walked a short distance, and found a small alcove built into the cave. They sat facing each other.

"This will not be an easy tale for me to tell nor you to hear" Thranduil warned. "You may judge me harshly when you hear it, but please believe that I acted with the purest of intentions, though it may not seem it. My only purpose was to spare you the sorrow with which I have long lived". His light eyes darkened, and a flash of pain crossed his face.

Legolas leaned forward, concerned. "What is this tale that is obviously so hard for you to recall?" he asked.

"It is the story of your mother and how she died", said Thranduil. "A story that is now known only to me in our kingdom".

"How can that be?" asked Legolas. "Surely there are others who knew her".

"There are or rather were, many in fact, but after the events which I am about to recount, I decreed that no one speak of this until you were ready to hear it. I did not want you to learn of this from anyone else. This story has been the source of my greatest joy, and my greatest grief. I did not mean to relate it now, but the events of the last few days and your imminent departure have forced my hand. It may be a great many years until we meet again, and I do not want you to be ignorant of what happened, as others you meet in your travels may know of it. I can recall every moment of the story, as I have replayed it in my mind for centuries."

"You know, of course, that I left Mirkwood, then called Greenwood the Great, along with my father, Oropher, to fight in the War of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men towards the end of the Second Age. We led an army of Sylvan elves to fight alongside our Lindon and Lothlorien kin, as well as dwarves and the Dunedain men against the forces of Sauron. You also know that my father, with more courage than sense, charged forward without being adequately trained and equipped, and was slain during the first days of the Battle of Dagorlad. Although having sustained grievous casualties to our numbers, I stayed to the end with the rest of our army, as much to avenge my father's death as to wanting to rid Middle-Earth from Sauron and the foul creatures that follow him."

"That, however, is not the point of this story", Thranduil added. "It is merely a backdrop to what happened in our homeland while I was away fighting another's war, but the tale starts much earlier than that…"

A great many years ago, my father and I, along with several other of our brethren, left Doriath. We had lost our king Thingol, who was killed at the hands of the dwarves of Moria, and could no longer hold back Sauron's forces. We traveled through Middle Earth, stopping for a while at different places, looking all the while for a place in which to settle, and found ourselves in Greenwood the Great, the home of the Silvan Elves. Our kinsman Gil-galad settled in Lorien, and we in the Woodland Realm, as it came to be known. The Sylvan elves of Greenwood had lived in isolation for a very long time, and had forgotten many of the elvish ways, embracing a more rustic and uncomplicated lifestyle. Indeed, we hardly recognized them as elves when we arrived, as they were much shorter and darker than us, and seemed a bit coarse. When we made known our decision to settle here, they were pleased as they had been greatly impressed with us, and especially with my father, whom they elevated to Lord over the Woodland Realm. We were of a noble line, but had no thought to rule when we decided to make Greenwood our home. They entreated us to reteach them some of the traditions they had long forgotten, and provide the leadership they needed. As his only son, I was treated with diffidence and subservience. Many were loath to approach me, and as a result, as I had always been of a solitary nature and not an affable sort, now I was lonely, and withdrew into myself even more. My reticence was misconstrued as my being proud and supercilious, which I did nothing to disprove.

The Silvan had a sort of minor noble line, and several of the members of the family were assigned the task of attending to my father and me at the halls. Most of the men were simple, uncomplicated elves, and were glad to be taught to fight with swords, a long-forgotten skill although archery is still the preferred fighting style. The women asked to be taught how to dress and behave as other elven women, and pored through the books we had brought with us for instruction. They however, still kept up their training as guards alongside the men to maintain the realm safe from interlopers.

The daughter of the family, Mauriel, was different than the rest. Though naturally shy at first, as they all were, she was quite intelligent, developed a desire to learn about the world that she had never seen. She would tarry in her duties, to ask me to regale her with stories of our life back in Doriath, Lindon or of our travels through the Misty Mountains. Many times her mother would send for her, as she had missed some appointment or other whilst attending to me.

She looked very much like all her Silvan kin, shorter in stature and auburn haired, but she was very pretty, and in her face one could see that she looked at the world a little differently than most.

I treated her like a child in those days even though she was a coming into her majority. We did not communicate much at first, as it took many years for her to grow bold enough to communicate directly with me. Everything I said or asked was answered with a "Yes, my Lord" or "No, my Lord". In vain did I attempt to draw her out of her shyness. But by and by she began to emerge from her shell, and we were able to engage in some small conversations, albeit mostly one-sided ones. Once she gained enough confidence, she would ask about the world beyond the forest, for the Sylvan elves had long eschewed life outside its boundaries, and were ignorant of anything beyond the Forest River.

She particularly enjoyed and entreated me to recount tales of my own adventures. I am not a little ashamed to admit I aggrandized my own role in some of the stories, as she always regarded me with awe when I was the protagonist of the tale.

And so it went for a great long while. She found ways to insinuate herself in the vicinity of wherever I was, and I basked in the glory of her admiration. It was not all maudlin sentimentality on her part, however. She took great pleasure in many things outside of her duties within our walls. I envied her carefree demeanor as I was, even then, of a taciturn nature. She delighted in dancing and merry-making with everyone, young and old, on our feast nights.

Even now, on some quiet nights I can almost hear the sound of her laughter echoing through the halls.

She was also a champion of every poor wounded creature she found in the forest, and would often bring them within our portals to be healed, even when I reasoned that some of them would not survive. It was at these times she showed her passionate nature. Her eyes flashed with defiance, and she would respectfully stand her ground. I knew then that she had the ability to become a formidable opponent were anyone dear to her ever threatened.

At my father's request I began to take some small part in the duties of the Lord of the Realm. My father felt deeply our responsibility to our subjects, and would have me sit with him as he performed his duties.

It came about that one day I noticed I had not seen Mauriel for some time, and could not recall when I had seen her last, but did not give it much importance. Within some months I began noticing her absence even more. I found myself irritated with her for not informing me that she would be gone, and I was quite at odds with everyone else. Nothing seemed to please me. And so it went a bit longer. My moods became increasingly darker, until I came to the realization that it was her absence that was the cause of my unease. I had grown quite used to her. I, in fact, missed her.

I sent for her father with the pretense of having him perform some small task, and inquired about her in a casual way. I said I had noticed her absence, and thought perhaps she had finally received permission to travel, as that was her fondest wish. Her father, after some prevarication and many apologies, finally informed me that he and her mother had noticed her increasing attachment to me, and knowing that it was likely that I would soon leave Greenwood to find a suitable wife, had forbidden her to seek me out any more, and had arranged for her to be occupied elsewhere in the palace. They were hoping to arrange a match with a husband of their own kind, so they could marry and settle on the outskirts of the forest. This would create as much distance between us as possible, as they knew that when I returned with a wife, Mauriel would not wish to be part of the household.

I thanked and dismissed him. I found that this troubled me greatly. It was true that I would soon need to find a wife; indeed, my father was making increasingly pointed remarks to that effect, and I could no longer pass as a youngster. I would soon need to marry and produce an heir.

I continued to brood about this for some time; I have rarely made rash decisions, and I did not do so now. It had not occurred to me she would be someone I could pledge myself to, but the more I thought, the more I felt her place was by my side, asking me questions, teasing me out of my bad humour, and, if I was totally honest with myself, giving my life purpose. I knew, of course, that we elves give our hearts but once. It was a surprise to me that I had done so without awareness of it. I had always thought it would be a more deliberate process.

I went to my father for guidance. I had always assumed he had hoped for a match with a daughter of some Sindar family he would want to build an alliance with. I broached the topic carefully. I wanted to know if he felt strongly about keeping our Sindarin line "pure", as it were. To my amazement, he took to the idea enthusiastically. In fact, I began to suspect he had been hoping for something of the kind. He told me this would cement the relationship between us and our subjects. He had always felt somewhat uncomfortable ruling over a people of which he was not a part.

He sent for Mauriel's parents to make an offer on my behalf and arrange a betrothal. Now that the matter was decided between my father and me, I was anxious for the conclusion of the matter and to marry as soon as our year was concluded. To his great consternation, Mauriel's parents were not in favour of a match. They were not convinced that her heart was as yet given to me, and moreover, were less convinced that I could pledge myself to her since I had never evinced any outward signs of my affection. Truth be told, they felt the difference in our stations to be too great for us to make a good marriage, and would not be the agents of their daughter's unhappiness.

I was angry and confused when my father relayed this information. I knew there would never be another for me, but then wondered if I had misread Mauriel. Perhaps her interest in me was only one of a storyteller and did not love me as I knew now I loved her. I wondered what to do. I would not, could not, force my attentions on her, but it was imperative that I discover how she felt.

It happened that we were coming up to one of the more festive occasions in our year, the Tarnin Austa, the summer festival. My father and I had re-introduced this celebration when we came to live at Greenwood. Mauriel's parents had made sure to keep her well away from me, especially so after their refusal of my offer. I devised a plan to seek her out the last night of the festival and confront her myself. I trusted she would be honest with me. I knew her enough to know that if she did not love me, she would say so, though it would cost her to say it, as she would not cause pain to anyone willingly.

The last night of the feast there was much singing, dancing and drinking, as usual. I waited for the moment to present itself to approach her. I had spent all evening glancing her way every few minutes waiting for my chance, and at one point I saw that she was sitting some ways away on her own. She looked very quiet, and did not seem as if she was enjoying herself. I strolled around the gathering, seemingly without purpose and came up behind her. I touched her arm, and she turned around quickly. When she saw it was me, she blushed, and looked down, refusing to meet my gaze. This puzzled me, there had not been any strangeness between us for many years.

She made as if to move away, but I blocked her path. I told her that I needed to speak to her on a matter of great importance. She looked around apprehensively, and asked me to meet her behind a great tree a little ways away. I walked directly there, but she took a more circuitous route, careful not to be seen by anyone.

As she reached the tree, I could no longer contain myself. I grasped her shoulders, and demanded she tell me the truth, did she not think she could ever grow to love me, or had she perhaps given her heart to someone else? I was amazed at myself. I had never acted with such impetuosity, it was quite out character for me to act this way. I waited impatiently for her response.

Her eyes had grown wide at my questions, and she looked at me in confusion and not a little apprehension. "I thought you did not want me to wait upon you any more, my Lord," she said quietly, looking down again. "I do not know why you are asking me these questions. Has someone told you of my love for you?"

At this I stepped back. What was she saying? What was at work here?

"Do you love me, Mauriel?" I asked, forcing myself to match her quiet tone. I reached out and forced her to look at me. "I want the truth, whatever it is." I saw the resolve in her eyes, and she almost imperceptibly squared her shoulders before replying "I love you more than anything, Thranduil." I smiled at the blush in her cheeks as she addressed me by my name for the first time.

I had never been as happy in my life as I was at that moment. I kissed her and we embraced for what seemed an eternity. When we finally broke apart, I asked her why she had not told her parents how she felt. She then recounted how she had overheard her parents discussing the possibility that she had lost her heart to me, and their worry that they were not worthy of aligning themselves with the Lord of the Forest. As much as she loved me, she could not bear to hurt her parents or be the cause of their discomfort. I confess I laughed at that, for although we were Sindarin elves of noble birth, my father and I had no more claim to nobility than they, and were indeed foreigners in their land.

I told her as much, and vowed to do everything in my power to make her family feel welcome and on a level with us. In truth, I was surprised to feel humbled to think that such a wonderful and beautiful creature could love a morose and impatient person such as myself. We agreed to say nothing that night, but would speak to her parents in the morrow. We did not want to overshadow their merriment until we had a chance to reassure them all would be well.

And so it was, we came to her parents together and convinced them that our love was real. They then knew they could not withhold their consent any longer, and gave their blessing to our union. My father held a great feast a fortnight hence, to announce our betrothal. Many were invited to take part in our celebration, some traveling from far away to partake in our joy. Those were the happiest times of my life.

It was during this time that the dwarves of Erebor and I became bitter enemies, although we had always maintained a tenuous alliance. I had commissioned the dwarves to fashion a necklace and girdle made out of the finest diamonds for a wedding gift for Mauriel. We did not have any treasure to speak of in the realm, and these were intended to be heirlooms to be passed down through the generations. They were magnificent; when I traveled to Erebor to take possession of them, Thror saw how majestic they looked, and desired them for himself. He had already become mad with greed. He could not steal them outright; we had paid the dwarves to manufacture them, so he refused to release them claiming we had not paid the price we had settled on, and tried to extort three times the price we had already paid. He well knew we are not rich and could ill afford the exorbitant price he was demanding. I would not jeopardize the welfare of our realm for a few gems, however precious they were, and I left Erebor without them.

As I was taking my leave I turned and warned Thror of the danger his greed would bring; I knew it would be his undoing. As l left Erebor humiliated, I vowed to myself that I would reclaim our jewels from the dwarves one day.

And so we had no grand gems for Mauriel to wear during our wedding celebration, but she had a bauble I had presented her on our betrothal along with her bride ring, for she had no family jewels to wear. It was a necklace made of fine silver with a pendant fashioned in the shape of an elk head. This had especial significance, as the elk was my favourite mount, and I knew this would give her no small amount of pleasure. In truth, I knew she would rather wear this simple adornment than she would more elaborate finery. As is our elven custom, her mother presented me with the groom ring which I have worn even to this day.

Our wedding festival was held as soon as a year had passed; the celebration lasted a full month. The people of Dale were kept busy delivering food and drink to ensure we lacked for nothing. Finally, at the end of the month Mauriel and I left Greenwood for our wedding trip. It was the first time she had left the forest, and she was as giddy as a child. I would tease her about her excitement, but she knew I was happy to be the one to finally show her the world.

We visited Dale and Lorien. I was amused at her delight in seeing the offerings of the merchants. She marvelled at seeing cloth in all the colors of the rainbow, for the Woodland elves did not favour any but darker colors that blended well with the forest. In vain did I entreat her to allow me to buy her enough for gowns in every colour. She allowed only 2, gold and green, as she was still not used to the idea of being the Lady of the Realm. She did purchase gifts for all her kin, many of whom had never set foot outside Greenwood either.

I had wanted to go on to Rivendell, and show her the wonders of this elven city, but she would not agree. She still felt the difference between the Silvan and other elves too deeply, and I did not want to taint the happiness of our journey.

We soon returned home, and settled into married life, and had many years of relative peace. We went about our duties, for Mauriel would not be waited upon, and reunited each night to dine among our own kin, and later retired to our chambers for our rest. So went our happy and unencumbered lives. But in time there started to be rumblings that Sauron was even then preparing for a great conquest over Middle-Earth. We had little cause to worry for ourselves, as we were almost impenetrable in our little underground kingdom, but the world around us would be destroyed were such a thing to happen.

By and by we learned we were to have a child. It was a joy to see Mauriel prepare for motherhood, and a year later we welcomed a son, Legolas, into our lives. Many a night was spent celebrating the arrival of the child that was the culmination of the joining of our people. Our joy was not undiluted, however. Increasingly worrisome reports of Sauron's encroachments onto other lands grew more frequent, and we came to the realization that war was becoming an inevitability.

Elendil and Gil-galad of Lorien had long suspected things would come to a head, and began preparing their armies for a long and protracted war. They took their cause to Rivendell and secured the backing of Elrond. Long an elvish stronghold, even Rivendell itself would surely be in Sauron's sights should the surrounding lands fall to him. At Rivendell their combined armies continued to train and prepare themselves for several years. They sent emissaries to Moria; the dwarves would also be vulnerable in such a war, and they pledged to send an army led by Durin the 4th himself. Once we learned of this, we knew it was only a matter of time before we were approached, and so it was. A contingency of elves from Rivendell were sent to Greenwood, and we could not refuse the call to action.

Our army consisted of almost every able-bodied fighter, and coming into the alliance so late, went forth ill-equipped and barely trained, led by my father. Our strength was archery, but had little actual experience in hand-to-hand combat. I was in charge of a company, as were the rest of the Sindar elves which had settled in Greenwood with us. We had barely arrived, and not waiting for Gil-galad's command, my father charged Sauron's forces on the first days of the Battle of Dagorlad, and he, along with many of our elves, perished there. Indeed, many of the alliance were lost in that battle.

I do not like to recall the horrors of those days. We could barely finish off one Orc assault before another set upon us. We had no time to bury our dead. I was not even able to behold my father's face one last time. The carnage was horrific to behold. Bodies littered the ground for miles; it was impossible to find him among so many. The stench of death permeated everything, and it seemed we would never be rid of it. So it went for several years, though it seemed an age that we were enjoined in this terrible war.

The fighting went on. We ceased to actually think about it, but fought on instinct alone. Slowly we were able to gain the upper hand, and pushed Sauron's forces back to the Black Gate. It was a costly victory, indeed it can scarcely be called that; every army in the Alliance sustained massive casualties. A full two thirds of ours was lost, and I alone of the Sindar of Greenwood survived to return home. The memories of the atrocities we had witnessed would be with us forever.

As much as the war had cost me, it was nothing to the loss that awaited me on our return.

When at last we reached Greenwood, as I led our bedraggled and depleted army into our gates, I noticed our reception was very subdued and hardly a smile could be seen. I ascribed it to their sadness for the great losses we had endured. Hardly a family had not lost one or more of their number, but the closer I came to the king's halls, the more I noticed an increasing unease and saw something akin to pity in the eyes of the elves that came to greet us.

As I arrived home, I immediately went to my chambers to be reunited with my small family. It was only the desire of coming back to them that had sustained me for many months, especially after the death of my father. I looked everywhere, but could not find them. At long last I found a servant and inquired as to their whereabouts.

"My lord" he said. "The prince Legolas is with his mother's family."

I gave only a passing thought to the strange phrasing that Mauriel had taken our son and retreated to her family home while I was away, although it was not altogether surprising. I quickly made my way there, still noticing the surreptitious glances sent my way.

When I arrived, I was immediately struck by the sorrow that permeated throughout. Mauriel's parents had a shrunken appearance, such as is brought about by intense grief. They cast their eyes down as I entered, and stood motionless before me for what felt like hours, though it was probably only minutes. Finally, Mauriel's father, after a nod from his wife asked me to sit. I could barely contain myself but I did so, seeing how troubled they were at my arrival.

I could wait no more. "Where are my wife and son?" I asked. "I had expected to be greeted by them when I arrived."

"I am very sorry, my Lord", he said in a small, strangled voice. "Legolas is even now being prepared to be brought to you, but you will not be able to see your wife."

I immediately understood that something had happened, and that he was steeling himself to say more. I waited while he attempted to compose himself, for now tears were flowing freely from his and his wife's eyes. This was something new to me, I had never seen such a visible display of emotion.

"Mauriel is dead, my Lord" he finally said, choking down a sob. "She is no longer among us."

I stood at this, not wanting to believe my ears. "How can this be? What has happened?" I grasped him by the shoulders and stood him up before me. "I want to know how she died. Speak!"

I saw that he was now frightened, realized I had him in a strong grip, and released my hold. "Please sit down and explain what has happened." I asked him, containing myself as best I could.

"It was these twelve months past that we lost her," he began. "As you and our army were away fighting, we who remained here were quietly going on about our daily lives. The children were allowed to play in the forest, for we were not aware that marauding bands of Orcs and were making their way here, and so many of the children were in the clearing playing when they were beset by the Orcs. We were innocent of the evil that was coming ever closer."

"There were upwards of one hundred Orcs, and we were ill-prepared to fight off such a large number. They grabbed as many of our people as they could. They then released all but Legolas and Mauriel. I myself was not there, but I was told by those who witnessed it, that she fought as hard as she could to free Legolas, but the Orcs were too many to stave off, and she and Legolas were taken. It was clear to us they had orders to abduct only them."

"In vain did we try to follow, there were too many, and we were too poorly equipped to mount a rescue. Thus we were for several days, trying to decide whether to send for you. To our surprise, about a fortnight after they had been taken, Mauriel appeared at the edge of the forest. She was close to exhaustion, her garments torn and soiled, but otherwise unharmed. She was taken immediately to the halls, where we met her. We had been told that she had been alone, and wondered if we should ask about Legolas, for we feared the worst."

"Upon taking some refreshment, bathing and changing into clean garb, she narrated what had become of her and Legolas since they had been abducted. It seems they were taken directly to Gundabad. There they had been thrown into a dank cave or cell, it was hard to say which since it was always dark within, but were unharmed. They had been fed and given some water daily. Thus she waited several days awaiting to find out what was in store for them."

"One day, as she was beginning to wonder if they were ever going to emerge from their prison, they were sent for. They were led to a great dark hall where they met a horrible Orc called Belub for the personal loss I had endured ub by some of the other Orcs. He was clearly their leader. He spoke our tongue badly, but she was able to understand what she wanted."

"He explained that she would be taken back to the forest, and released. Legolas was to stay with them. At this she refused, she would go nowhere without her son. At this Belub grew angry. She would do as he said or she and Legolas would be killed outright, and would make a tasty meal for his followers. If, however, she did as ordered, she would soon have her son back."

"He told her that she needed to send for you as soon as she was returned to the forest. They would only release Legolas if you came to reclaim him yourself. As they prepared to leave to deliver her back, she was able to listen and deduce that the plan was to have you be recalled to Greenwood along with your army, which would have weakened the Alliance forces. They then could mount a second offensive and bring things to a close."

"Before leaving, Mauriel extracted a promise that they would allow regular visits as proof that Legolas was alive and well until such time as his father came to reclaim him. An elf would be dispatched every third day, and would be allowed to see Legolas. Upon satisfying himself that Legolas was alive, he would return to us."

"We called upon one of the servants who volunteered to go North to find you, but Mauriel refused to send for you. She knew that to recall you was to pronounce a death sentence on you and the Alliance, and this she would not do."

"She devised a plan whereby she would return to Gundabad disguised as you and obtain the release of her son. She reassured us that what the Orcs wanted was your retreat from the war, and she would return once they knew they had been deceived. She waited until enough time had passed for you to have been recalled to Greenwood. When the time came, she dressed in your clothes and donned one of your battle breastplates, performed an enchantment so that her hair took on the colour of yours, then mounted one of your elks, and left with a small party. They would approach Gundabad only in daylight, as they knew most Orcs cannot see well then. She knew that the Orcs would smell the elk and your clothing, and be deceived."

"As she arrived, she and a few of her guards stopped outside the gates. She called out disguising her voice, and soon they were surrounded by several Orcs. The Orcs tried to get the group to enter the gates, but were held off, Mauriel refused to move until Legolas was brought forth. When they saw Legolas had been brought to the gate, Mauriel gave a sign, and several of our number came at them from both sides of the gate, surprised the Orcs and took Legolas. As was ordered, they did not stop but immediately rode off with the child. The Orcs recovered quickly, however, and rushed forward. In the fighting that ensued, Mauriel was captured. When the Orc saw that it was not you but Mauriel, they were enraged; she and a few others were dragged within the walls. Those that were not taken, under an oath they had sworn to Mauriel, immediately left to return here following those that had ridden away with Legolas."

"Neither she nor the others that were taken that day were seen again. An Orc that was captured some days later confirmed that the captives had been killed by Belub himself."

"We wondered then whether to send for you after all, but could not endanger the Alliance by doing exactly what Mauriel had died to avoid. It seems that she had also learned that their plan had been to kill you as soon as you entered the gates of Gundabad. We then realized that she had given her life for that of her son and husband. And in a way, for all of us."

At this I stood and rushed without a word.

I ran out, and immediately mounted my elk. I was followed by a few who had seen me leave our halls. By now surely they had been made aware of what had befallen her, and would be expecting me to ride to Gundabad.

We rode hard for days until we had Gundabad in our sights. I would have rushed the gates had not my companions stopped me and reasoned with me to devise a plan. I admit I had none, my only thought since I left Greenwood was to find my wife.

We waited for the cloak of night to make our approach less noticeable, though we would be at a disadvantage were we to go within before daylight, as we could not see in the dark like the Orcs. As soon as the first rays of the sun were seen, we fell upon the guards, and were able to storm in even as they were sounding the alarm.

We were fortunate that only about a hundred Orcs had remained behind; the others having been sent to fight, and had been killed. As I fought my way in with the others I called for Belub to make himself known. "Come out, you foul creature, Belub!" I bellowed. "This is Thranduil Orophelion. You wanted me here; your wish has been granted!"

I did not have long to wait. The large Orc came at me full force. I had no time to think; he had the might of three men, but I had the ferocity of the rage in my heart giving me strength. We fought what seemed an age. It was not an easy fight, I was nearly spent at the end. I do not know how I escaped injury for he fought hard for his life, but I was finally able to subdue him. I kept him pinned to the ground with my sword, and my right foot across his chest. He growled at me to kill him, and taunted me with Mauriel's death.

"There is no body left to find," he leered. "You won't be able to bury your beloved."

I would have driven my sword through him then, but an animal desire came over me such as I had never experienced. I had to make him suffer. I would not give him the release of a quick death. As I held him down with my sword, I slit his throat through slowly, watching his yellow eyes bulge as the life slowly and painfully drained from him.

"This is for my wife." I said. "Rot in hell, you loathsome worm."

Once I made sure he was dead, I hurried through the awful place trying to see if I could find anything of Mauriel's. That she was dead, I had no doubt. The Orcs would have made sure she did not live once they found out the ruse she had perpetrated on them.

Level by level I went until I reached the dungeons. I went through them one by one. In the corner near the door of one cell, I saw a small shiny object. I reached down to pick it up, and saw a ring I knew well. Mauriel's bride ring. I realized then that here was proof that she was dead, for nothing else would have made her remove the ring. I knew also that she had left the ring for me to find. She knew I would have gone to look for her when I was told she had been taken. I knelt as I held the precious item in my hand, and for the first and last time in my life, I wept.

In this piteous state my company found me. After the death of Belub they had make short shrift of the remaining Orcs. I knew I would never find Mauriel, there was nothing more to do there. I slipped her bride ring on my hand, and we left Gundabad.

Upon returning to Greenwood, I immediately went to our private chambers within the halls and shot the bolt; this was the home we had shared for so little time. The scene of most of our married life and our brief time as parents. There I relived the happy memories and also wallowed in the abyss of my pain. I could not countenance anyone. I had no words to say. I found myself unwilling and unable to take my place amongst my people and let them share in my grief, even as I knew all they had lost as well.

I am not proud of the next sequence of events. I continued sequestered in my chambers and refused to emerge. I would have some food and drink left outside the door only when I could not withstand my physical need for nourishment. My spirit was broken. An awful combination of grief, rage and despair held me in its grip. I had lost so much I did not think I would ever again be able to function. So it went for many months. I saw no one, and spoke to no one. In vain would the elders come to my door to see if they could draw me out. I sent everyone away.

One day came a knock and I heard Mauriel's father call out from the other side.

"My Lord Thranduil," he said. "We have come to say goodbye." I knew immediately what he meant. Indeed, I had contemplated the same thing myself during the time of my self-imprisonment.

I hesitated for a while, but finally did open the door to him.

"My Lord, my wife and I have decided to leave the Woodland Realm." He said. "We have been caring for your son these last few months, and have done so willingly, but he needs his father, and you need your son. Mauriel would be anguished to learn her death had been for naught, and that you had turned your back on him. You must now put aside your grief, and think of _her son_." His voice had steadily risen as he delivered his little speech. It was evident he had rehearsed it so that he would not forget what he wanted to say.

I stared at him at this, I could only guess at the strength of his feeling, as no one had never spoken to me this way. I had not thought of anything save my own despair since the dreadful day of my return. It had not occurred to me that Legolas would also be feeling her loss, even more than I.

He moved a little to the side, and pushed Legolas in front of him. I saw my son standing quietly, and felt immense shame that in my misery I had forgotten that this little boy was all I had left.

I picked him up, and he looked at me shyly; it had been a long time since he had beheld his father. But he soon smiled, and a little of the gloom that had enveloped me was dispelled. I could see a hint of his mother in his face, and I was a little comforted by that. Not all of her had died.

I looked at Mauriel's father. He smiled sadly, and said. "It is not only your son who needs you, my Lord. Your people have no leader. They do not know how to go on. You must reenter the world for their sake as well."

Again I marveled at his boldness, I knew it had cost him to approach and speak to me this way. He had never felt comfortable with me, and the need must have been great for him to reproach me in this manner. I moved aside and motioned for him to enter my chamber. I led him to a seat, all the while holding Legolas. Now that I had him, I knew not how I would ever let him from my sight.

"Where will you go?" I asked, in full knowledge of the answer.

"We are going to the West, my Lord." He said. "There is nothing here left for us. Legolas belongs with his father, and you need to teach him to be the leader he one day might grow to be. The world we knew is quickly changing, and we know our time will soon come to an end. We are following many of our kin, returning to our promised land."

At this I felt his great sacrifice. I knew they loved Legolas above everything. He was the only part of their daughter that remained, but they knew that that he was meant to be a prince, and not just the grandchild of simple folk.

"Thank you, Glanol". I said "You and Araniel have given me so much and I have never given you anything in return. Mauriel was the source of all my happiness, and I will honor her by raising our son as well as I am able to."

He then took his leave, kissing the hand of his little grandson as he turned and went out the door…

"The rest you know," Thranduil said, emerging from his reverie. "I suspect I was made king as much for the personal loss I had endured as for my ability to lead."

He looked at Legolas with deep sadness in his eyes. This was a side of him Legolas had never seen. "I have been an attentive and dutiful father," he said, "and have taught and guided you as much as was in my power to do. But I know that was not enough. I have loved you as much as a father can, but I have not the ability to show it. The affection that you should have had died with your mother."

"I have dedicated myself to the ruling of our people," he continued his face flushed with emotion. "I have done everything in my power to keep them safe within our borders. The conflicts of the world do not interest me. I know the terrible cost they can exact. History may judge me harshly for this. I care little what others think, but I would have you know that I am no coward. Gladly would I lay down my life for a just cause, but I will not spare one drop of elvish blood to rescue anyone from the consequences of their folly."

"You have been too hard on yourself, Father," said Legolas. "I am glad you decided to tell me, but I wish you had shared your burden with me before now. I can imagine what you have had to endure, and why you chose to never speak of it. It is obvious how much it pains you even now to recall it."

"I am proud to be the issue of such a union as you and my mother had. I shall be mindful always of both your sacrifices, and will strive to be worthy of you."

"You always have been," said Thranduil. "Go now. The time has come to make your mark in the world. I will rule our people until such time as they are ready to go West, then I will lead them there. Fare well, Tawant*. We may not see each other in Middle-Earth again."

Thranduil stood as did Legolas. They looked at one another for a moment; a world of meaning was exchanged in that brief time. They then turned and walked in opposite directions. Now, everything had indeed been said.

*- Legolas's father-name, meaning gift of the forest.

17


End file.
